


Certifiable Genius

by Worlds_we_Idolize



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Tony Stark, BAMF Tony Stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, But mostly fluff, Friendship, Gen, Genius Tony Stark, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Lab Bromance, Minor Injuries, Movie Night, Post-Avengers (2012), Team Bonding, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark-centric, Tony can play instruments, Tony speaks several languages, Underestimated Tony, but its okay, hints of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-05-06 02:51:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14632553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Worlds_we_Idolize/pseuds/Worlds_we_Idolize
Summary: 5 times the avengers remembered that Tony Stark is an absolute genius.orThe team have been together for a few months, but still don't get everything about the heart of their team.Tony supposes that it's easier to remember 'billionaire' or 'playboy' over the substantial skills he has. Just because everyone forgets, though, doesn't mean it's not still there.





	1. Capitals Cubed

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a bitter mess ever since CW and had brief hope that retribution would be paid in IW, but nope. Team Tony fics have been my life source for so long. But now I accept that the MCU is inexplicably hell bent on insisting that Tony is still the exact same as he was at the start of IM1, (despite him literally having a 10 year character arc full of amazing material), and have decided to ease myself into a less stressful era of the fandom.   
> Ah, post avengers 1 days where Team as Family fics reigned supreme. I've missed the wholesome content, what can I say?  
> Don't worry, every character mentioned is being interpreted as a kind teammate and will interact with Tony in such a way, so we can have the fluffy team fic we deserve.

1.

In the time since moving into Stark Tower, Bruce had grown accustomed to the peculiar direction his life had taken. The initial offer to move in with Tony was completely unexpected. He barely knew the guy, after all. But in the confusion and chaos that befell New York after the invasion, he didn’t over analyze the offer. Instead, he took it for what it most likely was- an act of kindness by someone who seemed to, somehow, genuinely like him. 

The rest of the team followed soon after. Tony had more than enough space for all of them, and Pepper seemed to be nothing but supportive of the engineer using his resources to help out the newly formed team. One by one the heroes found their way into the ridiculously sized building. Floors were claimed and interactions had taken place. And in months since then, dangerous battles and domestic affairs had molded them into a formidable group. 

It was unexpected.

It was, honestly, a bit strange.

But Bruce thought of it mostly as one thing now. Nice. 

Bruce mulled over all these thoughts as he sat in his lab working on his latest project. Or rather, sat in his and Tony’s lab. Shortly after moving in, the billionaire had escorted him here and explained that the room was open to him anytime, even though Tony himself often had to work in here for anything he couldn’t do in his personal workshop. Tony seemed a bit hesitant saying this, as if having to share the huge space with Tony would be nuisance to the scientist. It was one of the first times Bruce saw something bordering on vulnerability from the other man, so he quickly assured him that it was more than enough. Amazing, actually. And he was unbelievably grateful. 

Bruce cursed as he let a vial of orange liquid tip over, spilling it’s contents onto the desk in front of him. He grabbed a rag from the nearest counter and set to work mopping up the non hazardous spill. 

“You okay there, buddy?” Tony muttered distractedly. The two had been at work for several hours now. Usually the space was filled with chatter from the philanthropist (he never played music down here in the lab, he saved that for his personal workshop), but today was one of the rare days that he admitted to needing to focus on a particularly difficult coding endeavor. That meant that the last two hours had been spent in a familiar silence, now being broken by Bruce’s frustrated curses.

“Yes. Yes.” Bruce insisted. The biologist pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed at his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked. Bruce let out a muffled groan and put his glasses back on. 

“Nothing. It’s just this stupid equation. My brain is fried,” Bruce glanced half heartedly at the large calculator he had previously been peering into whilst also holding the vial. In his frustration, he had picked it up and began using it as a stress ball, squeezing the glass while trying to work out the numbers staring back at him. He was the first person to admit he had terrible lab safety etiquette, okay? 

“That hard?” Tony asked. The quirk of interest in his voice didn’t escape Bruce, who was now nursing a full on headache. It wasn't often that Bruce showed anything beyond reserved interest and mild enthusiasm when working near Tony. 

Bruce was a certifiable genius. Everyone knew it. The man had made amazing discoveries and developed advanced theories relating to radiation and a myriad of other things in his field of study over the years. If you asked him for a calculation, he could give you an answer faster than your average person. His picture was hanging up in classrooms next to Einstein and other great contributors to the world. 

However, it had never really been that much of a thing to him. In highschool he was the nerdy kid who was carrying around science projects and making good grades with minimal effort. But, that was about it. He was the token strangely smart kid. It wasn’t until university, and learning more and having access to more resources, that he ever did anything remarkable to people outside his hometown. 

So, yes, Bruce was a genius. And, usually, wasn’t complaining about an equation of all things to his fellow scientist. 

“It’s not hard, its just, ugh.” Bruce was now completely done with this. He knew today would be a more challenging part of this project, but really? Why was there so many small mathematical needs for even the smallest steps? He wished for the umpteenth time that he wasn't working with such unknown variables, so that he could simply ask Jarvis to do all this work for him. 

“What is it?” Tony was now swiveling his chair over from his place at the holographic screens and directing his full attention at his lab partner. His voice was the one that he barely used. The soft voice he used when he was undeniably comfortable and sincere. None of the intricate sarcasm and layered pop culture references or playful barbs. It took Bruce by surprise, like it usually did. Having Tony’s full, true, attention on him was an experience that he wasn’t quite used to yet, despite the months of friendly collaboration between them. 

Bruce suddenly felt a strike of guilt and mild embarrassment coming over him as he recalled what his friend had said earlier. “ You’re working on something today. Get back to it, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

Tony’s mouth took on a lopsided smile (not a smirk, Bruce noted quietly), as he swivelled the chair back to his own holograms and continued typing dutifully. “Really, what? You’ve been working all day, let me give that brain a quick siesta for you.”

“What about your coding?”

The billionaire scoffed. “It’s going well. You said this was an equation, not quantum physics, which I only dabble in on Tuesdays, mind you. Now, enlighten me.” Despite being unable to see his face, Bruce just knew there was a look of poorly concealed eagerness and a warm smile on the other's face. Tony, he had found out a few months ago, loved to please. With some people it was out of habit. Like Pepper Potts. Or the challenge of it all, like Nick Fury. With him, it was a weird familial instinct that the pair never really acknowledged out loud. 

Bruce relented. “ I need to balance this,” he typed the scramble of atomic symbols done from his own holograms and slid it over towards Tony’s direction, knowing it would land within his own work station projections. “It’s working with Vibranium and the mercury solution I seperated yesterday so its been-” his words came to a halt as a streamline of atomic symbols, along with their corresponding coefficients, rolled back into his hologram projections. “Wait, what?” He turned to look at Tony, who hadn’t even stopped typing his own coding project. 

The engineer spared him a glance back,”Is that good? Can you check it? Sorry, I was trying to do it quick.” The keys continued clicking like energized clock hands. 

Flustered, Bruce readjusted his glasses and picked up his calculator. A minute later he said, “Yes, Tony, this is perfect.” The biologist stared at the mess of slightly curly brown hair across the room. 

“Great! Part two? Don’t you have to add the correct amount of Erbium that you were saying could offset the erosion of those fibers you synthesized yesterday? Send that over.” 

Bruce had already opened the folder and was sending over a table of numbers and the equation Tony had just finished for him again. “If you want the graph version of those results I have them right h-” suddenly his view of the newly opened folder was replaced by an incoming document with five sets of numbers displayed. 

“There you go, try those. The tensile strength should get stronger from the top to bottom. Sorry, I didn’t note it on there.” Tony’s voice remarked apologetically. This time Bruce fully turned in his chair to confirm that the other scientist hadn’t even stopped working on his own project. Lines of code (for a new version of the Iron Man visual displays, he remembered) scrolled past consistently. Tony’s hands were moving incredibly fast. The engineer had on an oiled stained T-shirt and loose jeans with black marks marring the fabric. It was at this point that Bruce saw the coffee cups littering his desk and remembered that Tony had mentioned he hadn’t slept last night, instead opting to work through all of yesterday and today. 

Finally, he looked back at the sets of numbers his friend had sent him. He’d have to whip out a calculator and set himself to work, but, they made perfect sense at a glance. “What the fu- Tony”.

The typing stopped as his friend looked back in surprise. “Yeah?” Large brown eyes found Bruce’s own, and he saw the confusion in them. Tony was in such an easy going mood right now ( his ‘soft’ mode right now, as Bruce and his fellow teammates had started referring to it), that it was kind of heartbreaking to see the uncertainty there. 

“Oh nothing, nothing, thank you. Really, thank you,” Bruce replied quickly. He stood up and started collecting the few materials still on his desk. Tony was still looking at him with that uncertain hesitation. Bruce offered him a small smile as he started moving towards the lab doors. 

Apparently deciding that he hadn’t done anything wrong at all, and Bruce was just being a totally weird science bro again, Tony tipped his head to the side and then went back to work. “Okay, see ya later Jolly Green.” 

Bruce retreated out the door, a poorly disguised spring in his step. 

 

That night, after going back to the lab while Tony was locked inside his own personal workshop, Bruce finished recording his observations from his most recent experiment. All the tensile strengths were precisely as Tony predicted. He stared resolutely down at the results and then turned his attention up towards the ceiling. “Jarvis? How often does Tony ask for your assistance when working with the more mathematical aspects of his projects?” 

“I am programmed to automatically correct any arbitrary mistakes Sir may make in his work, however, I am not linked to any of his personal workstations or documents unless he requests for me to do so.”

“So, essentially, you can correct errors but Tony doesn’t have you linked to any of that stuff anyway?”

“I am a learning intelligence. Sir has not made enough requests of that nature for me to be needed.”

“You’re saying he can literally match whatever math poweress you, as a computer, have.” 

The A.I’s voice seemed to take on an amused tone.

“I suppose if that’s how you wish to put it, Dr. Banner”.

 

The next morning Banner strode into the lab with a special sort of determination. Tony was once again hard at work at his collection of blue holograms and screens. At the mechanical sound of the doors sliding open, he waved a hand in the air as a greeting. 

“Tony.” Bruce said. The billionaire made a grunting sort of sound in acknowledgement as he continued working. “What’s 56243 times 9872.339?"  
“555249962.” The other man replied easily.  
“What’s log base 8 of 952?”  
“3.298 at three decimal places.”  
“What’s 8694 times 85/4 squared?”  
“3925884.375.”  
“What’s the capital of Rwanda?”  
“Kigali?” This time Tony turned around to level a questioning gaze across the room. With a snort of amusement he asked, “what kind of equation are you working on now? Are you trying to cube capitals?” 

Bruce gave him a steely look that he felt must be bordering on a glare by now. Finally, he walked up to his engineer friend and lightly shook one of his shoulders in an uncharacteristic show of affection. “Nothing. You’re genius is just entertaining.” 

Tony’s face was stricken with bemusement as he made a jokingly indignant sound. He eventually stuttered out an eloquent, “uhhhh Brucie Bear, you feeling alright today?” Bruce noted how he had his legs tucked up beneath him on the swivel chair and was unconsiously rocking the wheels back and forth across the polished floor. 

“Yup.” Bruce kept his hand on Tony’s shoulder, and it seemed to be a welcome gesture as he looked closely at the coding Tony was still dedicated to finishing. “Now explain all this to me, huh?” Tony was a slightly blushing (though he would never admit it) and clearly excited mess of coffee induced energy. 

“Sure! Sure.”

Bruce wasn’t sure how he had forgotten something so obvious about his teammate. For all the technological feats and casual upgrades surrounding him, it seemed to slip his mind. He wasn’t the only resident genius staying in this tower, and Tony wasn’t just a billionaire who paid for all their housing. That armour he constantly protected the world in? Not just the result of an inheritance and some privilege. No, all of it was Tony. All that math and number sense that went into any engineering, let alone one of the most advanced forms of it on Earth? All Tony and his constantly whirling mind. Tony Stark, Bruce’s genius science bro.


	2. Protractor Playboy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekly Team Night takes an interesting turn for Clint and the rest of the group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I wrote this 5 hours after I published the last chapter.   
> Yes, it's 4:50 am.  
> No, I do not sleep.  
> Please enjoy!

2.

Clint never really could pinpoint when Team Nights became a thing. 

One minute they were all practically strangers tip toeing around their new unfamiliar home, except for him and Nat. Then the next they were all expected to gather on Thursday nights for movies and an assortment of games played with concerning levels of competitiveness. 

Okay, if he was being honest, he may have a slight idea of how this whole setup began. It may have had something to do with him constantly requesting the other members of the team to ‘freaking square up on the Wii like a real man (or lady in Natasha’s case)’, and 'if I can’t shoot you in training then let me shoot you on this screen at least!’ Until one by one each Avenger got sick of the passionately declared challenges and had starting regularly joining him in the common room for a ‘1v1’, as he liked to put it. 

Eventually they were around each other enough for disagreements to arise as to who, what, and when they would play. So, Thursday night became the unofficial-but-still-official time of virtual violence and movie sampling. 

Did Clint think it was horribly cheesy and would look really uncool to any super villains who ever decided to crash the party? Yes. Was he slightly proud that he had inadvertently started this? Absolutely. 

Pride was the exact feeling he had when he dove onto the large ‘L’ shaped couch on the most frequented communal floor and watched as his teammates meandered in from the hallway. Thor was there first, as per usual. The god strode in with a tangible enthusiasm that he projected like a spotlight. “Hello good friend! And what is on the agenda for this night of celebration and union?” His normal t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms were a noticeable contrast to his overwhelmingly royal posture. 

Clint couldn’t help chuckling as he replied, “Two words! Mario. Kart.” The blond haired god’s eyes seemed to immediately gain a dangerous glint. 

“It. Is. On!” Clint started outright laughing as the giant of a man sat near him and picked up a controller.

The archer jerked in surprise as a blur of movement over his shoulder caught his eye, and suddenly a red haired assassin was lying half in his lap from where she had just vaulted over the back of the couch. He looked down and his best friend had somehow already snatched up a blanket and was holding a full popcorn bowl. Her gracefulness never faltered, even when she was acting like a total teenager. 

“Hey lame-o, you’re gonna get your head smacked by this remote”. He cautioned as he and Thor started off on the track. Nat huffed and poked him in the side hard enough to make his cart on screen waver. “Lay off! A champion is working here!” He protested, eyes never leaving the screen. 

“Speaking of working,” a voice chimed in from behind them, “has anyone seen Tony yet?” Steve asked. He was walking in from the kitchenette that separated the TV and dining area. 

“ I dunno ask Bruce,” Clint said in a string of words to quick for most people to understand. 

“I’m right here Clint,” came another voice from behind him. This one softer and less commanding then the Captain’s. 

“I still dunno go look,” Clint rambled again. Third lap!

“Could you go get him? I’m going to order the pizza right now.” Steve replied.

“IdunnohaveBrucedoit”.

“I’m picking the movie right now, Clint. Could you please just go get him?”

“ImliterallyabouttokickThor’sbuttjustonesec.” 

Steve’s voice took on that chastising tone that a parent might use with a kid. “Clint, Bruce asked politely. Could you please-”

“IMLITERALLYBOUTTAWINLASTLAPOHMY- THOR!” Clint made a sound very reminiscent of a squawk as Thor’s Wii controller went flying into the TV monitor and put a hole straight through it. Natasha bolted upright from beneath him and everyone turned to stare at the crackling screen.

The Norse god was guiltily rubbing his neck as he avoided eye contact with the others. “Friends, my deepest apologies. It seems that I have once again forgotten to fasten the wrist band which prevents the remote from flying much like my hammer.” His words were undeniably sheepish and his smile was more of a grimace. 

A deep sigh was heard from the doorway as the owner of the broken TV walked into the room. Everyone turned to look at him as a greeting. “It’s alright big guy. I was going to replace that one soon anyway. At least now we know remotes can function as replacement hammers if need be.” Tony’s original sigh was replaced with a grin as he set down his empty coffee cup and clasped Thor on the shoulder. “Now, I don’t think tonight will be a movie night.” He remarked, inclining his head towards the remains of the sleek piece of technology. 

Clint snorted as he tossed his remote back onto the footrest in front of him. 

“How about a board game?” Bruce suggested tentatively. The scientist was seated at the modestly sized dining table, still glancing forlornly at the broken screen. The archer glimpsed the various reactions to the proposal. 

“We did that two weeks ago,” Natasha reminded him. She was now perched on the arm rest of the sofa, inspecting the popcorn bowl for the pieces with the most butter.

“We didn’t play them all that night, we can look again and-” Steve began, already moving towards the hall closet. He was very fond of board games. 

“Aye, I do believe we have cycled through all of the board orientated challenges.” Thor agreed. 

“I haven’t bought more in a few months,” Tony said thoughtfully. “Hmm, I can for next week.”

“What about now?” Clint pestered. Really, they were so impish during these Team Nights. All of them desperate for some entertainment or childish antics to distract them. 

Tony’s eyes raked over the surrounding area thoughtfully. Clint followed his lead and halted when he saw the large object across the room near the full wall windows. “Ooh! You know what this means! Pool!” The archer exclaimed. 

He was met with a chorus of groans. “For the last time, we are not playing pool with you!” Natasha stated impatiently. She had only made that mistake once over the course of their relationship, and she did not intend to make it again. Her sharp eye held up when searching for tells on a target. But against Clint in a game of aim? No thank you. 

“That sounds fun,” Steve commented. 

Bruce walked around the kitchen island and stood next to the super soldier, leaning against the cabinet casually. “That’s just because your a genetically enhanced individual with above average cognitive abilities.” The scientist raised his mug to his mouth as everyone looked at him. “You stand a chance, we don’t.” He clarified. 

“Nah, I’m going to side with Captain Tight Pants on this one. Let’s cut the chit chat and go.” Tony was already walking off to the beautiful table across the room. Collecting the balls from the bottom, he starting organizing them into a neat triangle. The others got up and followed. 

“Really, Stark? You’re going to find this fun?” Natasha asked, skepticism lacing her words. “I didn’t think you were okay with being on the losing side of things.” She may have not been the best player here, but everyone knew that she herself could easily hustle him in a round of pool. If he was going to be bold enough to try to pretend that wasn't true, then she would at least heckle him while he did it. 

Tony didn't dignify the barb with a response. Instead, he picked up two sticks and asked cheerfully, “who’s first?”

A few rounds of rock paper scissors and a couple drawn out pool matches later, Natasha had won a close call against Steve, and Bruce had surprisingly (or maybe not surprisingly) beaten Thor.   
Finally it was Clint and Tony, and the pair were queuing up to start as their friends acted as an intrigued peanut gallery. “Sorry, Stark. I guess you really played yourself on this one here.” Clint said with a confident grin. “This is just unfair, Natasha, come over here and play me instead!” 

“No, no, it’s my turn tweedy bird.” The billionaire said coolly, an unconcerned smirk adorning his face. He was still dressed in neatly pressed slacks and a half tucked in white button up from an earlier board meeting. A navy blue tie was draped haphazardly across his shoulders. His socks had smudges of black on it from his earlier time in the workshop, and his usually coiffed hair had been grown out until he had a floppy bang that hid half his right eye. Pepper had fussed over it all morning, but Tony had simply let it be. Now, standing here, the others couldn’t help but think of him as one of his many self proclaimed- and media infamous- titles. Tony Stark looked like the epitome of a playboy. 

Tony grabbed the chalk square and took a sip from a champagne glass he had poured during Thor and Banner’s earlier game. 

“Let’s go, playboy.” 

Tony quirked an eyebrow at the sparsely used sentiment and put down his glass.”You’re on, Birdbrain.”

 

 

 

The archer was… shocked. 

He entered that match as an undefeated champion, and left with one loss to mark in his ledger. Tony Stark had beaten him. It wasn’t a horrible loss, someone from an outside perspective might say. But it still was exactly that- a loss. Anyone with context of the situation would not that it should've been impossible. 

The playboy had made a series of impressive strikes right off the bat. All the while, looking up at their friends and acting like some type of showman, rambling about degrees and angles and other gibberish that Clint started to tune out as he got more invested in the game. He understood it, of course, to an extent. He was a trained archer after all. It's just that, years of practice and repetition had made the entire process of aiming a second nature. Locked in stone. He didn't think that much about it anymore in a unique way. All his thoughts about it were clear, precise, and instinctual at this point. “And…. 34 degrees right there, the left of course… just a glance off that wall right there… and….” the confident narration came to an end as a lone ball fell into the pocket and Clint watched as their friends stared slack jaw and impressed. Tony took a deep bow and began blowing kisses towards the walls.

Thor actually started a round of applause, which the others took up in short order. Even in his shock and devastation, Clint was slow clapping right along. “Where the hell did you learn how to do that?” He asked. “Wait, did you bug this table or something? Are you secretly wearing some of the armor?” Clint accused, only half joking.

Tony ignored the accusation and shrugged noncommittally. “How do you think I manage to design all your arrows? Or aim the repulsors on the suit? SI is kind of known for its former weapon manufacturing, to. So it's not like I'm inexperienced in that skill department... kind of need to know how to shoot one to make one. But anyway, how do you think I drew up the blueprints for anything I build?" 

“Ummm… you bought them somehow?” Clint says hesitantly. He knows the response is utter rubbish as soon as it leaves his mouth. Logistically, that answer was the peak of ignorance. He even cringes as he says it, knowing it’s offensive but feeling off kilter now that he’s seriously thinking about this. He could practically feel Nat face palming in the background, and Bruce choking on his mug of tea. 

“Yeah, not like I’m smart or anything.” The man scoffs and takes a big gulp of his drink. It’s meant to be a joke, it really is. But Tony’s masks are shifting under the heavy scrutiny and he can’t help the indignation twisting his features. One hand tugs self consciously at the bottom of the untucked portion of his shirt, and he fidgets under the weight of everyone’s eyes. The hand that's gripping at his shirt moves up to further muss his hair, making it more disorderly then it already was. Through his rising distress, he sees Clint’s uncertain expression and finally decides to answer his earlier question to divert the ill attention. 

Tony gave the archer a look tinged with reproach and simply said, “When I was ten I had to go on six months of travel away from my school with Mom and Dad. Howard was officially listed as my educator, so instead of having me review a textbook, he brought me to some bars and taught me geometry. Let’s just say I had some pocket money that summer.” His tone was light and airy, but all of them could hear the strain behind his explanation.

With an awkward clearing of his throat, he continued talking to avoid the silence. "But then again, when did I not have pocket money, ya know?" He says with a dry chuckle. "I don't know, I'm pretty good at pool now, darts to, so that's cool..."

Steve didn’t miss the way he switched to ‘Howard’ as soon as the man wasn’t being tagged on with Tony’s mom. He was half forming the question of “bars?” when Natasha lightly placed a hand on his arm. He had no idea what to make of it. 

Bruce was laughing and walking up to his friend to playfully shove him. “Protractor, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist!”

As they all laughed and started up new conversations to fill up the space, Clint was just thinking one thing. 

‘No, definitely smart. A genius, in fact’ 

He’d try not to forget that one anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rather like how this chapter turned out! Again, I'm doing my best to juggle the logistics of what's happening, but my main focus for the narrative is the characters. So forgive me if something in the text isn't quite adding up well.  
> For this one I just want to explain why Clint couldn't beat Tony. I interpreted it more as Clint just happened to have a background useful for this particular activity, so he always mopped the floor with people. But Tony happened to actually learn things specifically for this purpose. (I imagine Howard as the type to want his son to be able to hustle pool, get some change after hours from business men, you know?)  
> I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for showing support!


	3. Rolodex of Dialects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha wasn't prepared for this inconvenience. How could Stark possibly be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you don't mind the (very) late update! My apologies, school has just ended and finals were very time consuming. I wanted to make this chapter longer than the others, too. So, the scheduling got very mixed up. New chapters will be added in a much more reasonable time frame. I hope you enjoy!

3.

Having the abilities that Natasha Romanoff had was a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you were a self sufficient human weapon who could hold your own fighting against gods and aliens. On the other hand, you were often used for your language and people skills in inconsequential situations. 

Not actually inconsequential, of course. Avengers PR events and board meetings were an important behind the scenes necessity for saving the world. Keeping the ship sailing and engines going. That didn’t mean she had to like it, though. 

Stark already handled almost everything related to PR for the group. Something having to do with it being a natural extension of his duties at SI, SHIELD explained. But, a quick chat with Fury months ago had revealed that they knew he already had the social standing and experience to be the best at manipulating the press, if need be.

The spy thought that calling it outright manipulation was a bit of an overstatement. Pepper Potts seemed to be one of the few people in charge of directing whatever he said. And even then, he’d go off script and tell divisive jokes or aggravate some important person. There was always a bad newsreel or article piece about Stark circulating somewhere. So really, how good could he be doing?

But the Russian spy had to admit that the Avengers platform was nearly always squeaky clean. There would always be naysayers or devil’s advocates. The overall consensus, though, was that the group were heroes that the Earth were indebted to. She could definitely live with that mindset staying in place. 

That’s why waking up with a horrible headache on the morning of one of the group’s biggest international conferences made her infinitely frustrated. It was a quiet Monday morning, but it felt as though someone had given her a concussion the night before. She padded to the kitchen in her silk slippers and actually hissed at the sunlight streaming in from the huge windows. It wasn’t often that the enhanced human became sick. Sickness and injuries just seemed to avoid her, as if she could swiftly dispatch them like any other enemy. Moments like these proved that she could not. 

She was only halfway through digging the tiny bottle of advil out from the back of the cupboard when her best friend came storming in. “NA TASSSH AAA,” Clint yelled in a sing song voice. 

“Quiet down!” She insisted. Her hand was still fumbling around in the cupboard. The medicine probably wouldn't even help, but she'd be damned is she wouldn't try.   
“What’s wrong with you today?” Clint still had that teasing tilt to his voice, but Natasha could already sense the unease he was trying to cover. She wasn’t always in the best mood, but she didn’t often show it so plainly as this. To the archer it was… unnerving, in a way. 

“I’m fine. I just don’t want to do this today.”

Clint raised his eyebrows but hummed an amicable response. He was already settling in at the dining table with a box of sugary cereal and a jug of milk. “I hear that. Wanna skip out and find some fun in a foreign country?” He offered the red head a small smile and began unceremoniously pouring milk into his bowl. 

Natasha turned as a gasp sounded from the hallway behind her. “You heathen! Are you putting milk in before the cereal?” The assassin rolled her eyes as Stark rushed into the kitchen next to her. The billionaire looked absolutely scandalized at the SHIELD agent’s behaviour. It was the most awake Nat had ever seen him without his morning coffee. 

Clint started obnoxiously chewing in their direction. 

“You’re really going to show up in my tower with my food and eat it in front of me like that? No class, no shame.”

"No class and no shame sounds awfully familiar."

"Are you implying what I think you're implying? Cause if so then-"

The bickering continued for a few more beats until Nat had enough. 

“Both of you shut up.” She said it with so much disinterest and calm that anyone else might not have even heard it, but the two other avengers immediately fell into silence. She was glad that she never had to raise her voice, she didn’t think it was even possible right now. Her throat was so sore…

“Natasha, are you alright?” Steve asked as he entered with Thor and Bruce at either side. All three men were dressed in fitted black suits with polished shoes. The captain gave her a quick once over. Seeing that she was still in her sweats and slippers, his eyebrows drew together in concern. “We have to leave for the conference in an hour.”

For Steve that translated to: we have to be in the car in no less than 30 minutes. 

The spy felt her cheeks nearly flush at his outright scrutiny. Which was… odd. She never cared about others assessments of her like this. Except when her mind was bogged down by fatigue that wasn’t easily pinned on exhaustion or an injury. In fact, she had no idea what was wrong with her right now. Her advanced immune system usually could fight off any potential illness. She had not accounted for this. 

“Yeah Natashalie. Today’s your day to shine. Thank god. I finally have a break from wrangling the toddlers.” Stark quipped. He was currently warming his hands on his fresh cup of coffee, gray suit and black sunglasses in place. Natasha noted that he still had not cut his hair as Pepper had requested a week ago. 

She huffed in frustration as he smirked across the kitchen at her. “Shut up Stark. I always handle this conference because you aren’t capable of it. Stop acting like you’re the only one who does anything around here.” 

This international meeting was only held so often, depending on the current political climate and latest disasters. Representatives from every country interested in the Avenger’s affairs attended via video call or in person gathering. No press or civilian news outlets were allowed on the premises. And, due to the delicate nature of the topics being discussed, no staff below a level 8 clearance were privy to the information. That meant that Natasha was the sole speaker for the entirety of the conference, since she speaks nearly every notable language. SHIELD had insisted that in order to remain in good PR standing with these people, they would have to be as welcoming as possible. That meant accommodating each leader with a presentation in their respective language. 

The whole ordeal was long, repetitive, and frankly- very boring.

If Natasha were not a mastermind of composure, she surely would have broken down and insisted that she couldn’t do it anymore. But she never was one to complain, especially to Fury. And especially when this provided her with enough leverage against Stark to show him that he really wasn’t the big hotshot negotiator and businessman he thought he was. 

The Russian watched with a tinge of satisfaction as Stark’s smirk twisted into an irritated scowl. 

“That wasn’t what I was-”  
“I don’t think Tony was-” Bruce began to interject when Steve cut the two off. 

“Just make sure you’re ready. Today’s important, like Tony said,” Steve quickly glanced over his shoulder at the mentioned billionaire, “But we can’t be arguing. We have to show a united front going in.”

Tony seemed to only become more irritated. “But I wasn’t-”

Bruce also stumbled out a reply to the Captain. “Let’s not take his words out of co-”

“Aye! I agree with our captain. We will enter as one, and endure this test of patience.” Thor agreed with genuine cheer and resolve. Clint startled as the God’s hammer flew across the room into his outstretched palm. 

Steve sighed heavily. “You can’t do that in the hous-”

“Um, just to clarify still, I really wasn’t-” Tony interrupted. 

“Shut up! All of you!” Natasha ordered. But she raised her hand to her throat in clear surprise as her voice came out weak and inconsistent.” All of the team’s eyes landed on her in quick succession. Clint slowly stood up and walked toward his friend. 

“Hey… are you okay?” 

If it wasn’t for her great control over her expressions, Natasha would have been bright red with anger. She wanted to leave the room with one last biting remark about not treating her like a piece of glass and ‘would they just stop staring at her!’ But she didn’t trust her sore voice not to crack. With her huff she strode out of the room to go change.

“Well that isn’t good.” Bruce commented, stirring his tea with a nervous glance to the other men. 

 

 

Forty minutes later, Natasha was standing in the foyer of one of the city’s largest skyscrapers. Outside she could still hear the buzz of the media swarming the area. They may have been prohibited from entering, but that didn't mean they'd just give up. They were like mosquitos attracted to the smell of potential prey. She pulled out a small compact mirror from her handbag and slightly adjusted her simple black dress. The rest of her team were waiting with her. Everyone was dressed and groomed to impress. 

Her earlier irritation was replaced with a calm façade meant to radiate confidence. It was admittedly difficult to appear so indifferent. Her head was pounding with the unfamiliar pressure of a migraine. Her throat felt swollen and raw in an amazingly uncomfortable way. The assassin had barely spoken a word since she had joined the others in their sleek limousine, hoping to conserve her energy for the real event. 

Stark had been sending her sidelong looks ever since she had rejoined everyone. He still seemed to be caught up on her harsh words in the kitchen earlier, but for what reason, she failed to understand. If she cared enough she could just look over and observe him long enough to find out what his deal was, but she didn’t bother to spare him the time. His pride and petty arrogance over not being the center of attention could wait. 

Steve, Thor, and Bruce had been pointedly remaining silent in her presence, probably to avoid one of her earlier outbursts. It was smart of them, she thought. Their self preservation skills were clearly functioning. 

Clint, on the other hand, she wasn’t so sure. The archer was taking any chance he could to stand in her direct line of sight and catch her eye. At first it was with a look of childlike petulance, arms crossed and bottom lip seeming to subtly stick out in defiance. Defiant in an utterly juvenile way. Then, it turned into a look of true hesitation. He knew something was off. Something that joking and teasing couldn’t fix. 

Nat coughed into her fist and smoothed out the fabric of her dress. What was up with the colorful dots blurring her vision all of a sudden…?

Startling at the feeling of hands grasping her upper arms and wrist, she furiously blinked up at Steve and Clint. “Woahh there!” Clint said frantically. He tightened his hand on her wrist as Steve let go of her arms and took a wide step back. 

“Are you alright?” The super soldier asked. Now Thor was crowding closer too. 

Why was everyone getting so near? Why couldn’t they leave her alone, and stop making this headache worse? 

“You know Tash… if you aren’t feeling up to it today you don’t have to do this.” Stark said in a rushed whisper on her left. Someone from within the awaiting room was using a microphone to announce that it was time to be seated.

Natasha couldn’t believe his audacity. To insinuate that she wasn’t capable of doing her job, all because he was insecure that he wasn't as needed as he had previously assumed? What a child! Nat opened her mouth to say as much, and was horrified to find that only a small scratchy sound came out. “I- I..” she struggled to annunciate, before she felt her vocal cords give out like a collapsed building. Her lips opened and closed liked a mime, until she could only peer up at her fellow Avengers with a truly disgruntled expression. 

Bruce was finally pushing forward between the much taller men to make his presence known. He didn’t hesitate in raising the back of his hand to her forehead in a very professional manner. “God Natasha. You’re burning up!” Bruce flipped his palm to press flat against the top of her head in an uncharacteristic show of concern. He hadn’t ever seen the spy show any signs of physical illness in all the months that he had known her. “You can’t even speak. Your throat too? Let me see.” The doctor demanded in that anxious way of his. It seemed like the word 'fever' was on the tip of his tongue. 

The spy pushed his hand away and took a wide step backwards to escape everyone’s stares. Once again she failed to speak. Furiously she took out her phone and typed out a flurry of words. She shoved the phone into Banner’s outstretched hand. 

Adjusting his polished glasses, he began to read aloud. “ The conference is starting any minute.”

“How will the brave lady warrior serve as our translator if her voice has been taken by illness?” Thor questioned. The god appeared to be very worried at this unusual turn of events. Nat snatched her phone back and typed out another message. 

“I have to somehow,” it said. 

Steve leveled his blue eyes at her in sympathy. “You can’t without your voice…”

The assassin was now becoming resigned to the situation at hand and was working to devise a secure course of action. She typed again. “Get a translator up here immediately.” She hated to be reliant on someone else, but she was in no condition to perform her job today. The least she could do was find a reasonable solution. 

“No one is allowed up here. Not even the lower SHIELD personnel is here. Who can we get?” Clint asked quickly. 

“5 minutes!” Bruce announced, staring wide eyed at the expensive wrist watch Tony had gifted to him a few weeks ago. 

“The one eyed director seemed adamant that we attend to our own needs in this assembly,” Thor recalled from a few months earlier, when Fury had explained that all of these international PR events would be handled by Romanoff herself. 

The hum of voices behind the awaiting double doors seemed to increase with the rising anxiety among the group. “We’ll just have to postpone this.” Steve said regretfully, knowing the ramifications this would have on them all. This could tarnish their image in the eyes of these important people. Natasha tried to protest through her inability to speak. 

“God! I’ll just do it! It’s fine, come on, would you?” Stark exclaimed in exasperation, fidgeting with his cufflinks and striding off towards the conference room. The others followed after him in a bustle of movement. "Schmoozing is my bread and butter."

“Tony! Wait! This isn’t like all the other media events! You can’t just snark your way through this!” Steve insisted, rushing to stop the brunette from barging in. 

“You can’t even translate, Tones!” Bruce exclaimed. 

“Don’t make a fool of yourself!” Clint called out, dragging Nat with him. Thor followed in an equally apprehensive fashion. Their wealthy teammate was already clutching the glass door handles as if he was steeling himself up. 

The engineer took a breathe and whispered minutely,"And a three… two… one.” 

The superheroes' panicked frenzy dissolved into professional smiles as the hoard of people behind the door was revealed. Screens depicting the faces of dozens of world leaders lined the room, and several more were seated behind long tables decorated with plagues announcing their names, country, and relevance. The Avengers made their way to sit in their designated seats behind the main podium facing the crowd.  
This time, however, Iron Man stood behind the display instead of the Black Widow.

“Hello, hello! I hope everyone’s doing well today, or tonight depending on the time zones.” Stark started, flashing his beaming smile. Clint made an imperceptible groan as Steve stiffened in anticipation. “We’ll begin with the specific presentations we have been asked to put together, as well as review the latest skirmish in Manhattan. We will then take individual inquiries.” He continued. 

Romanoff listened to the familiar generic opening, knowing that beyond this, Stark was done for. This was the only part of the day that English was expected. Everything from here on out was supposed to be a long winded appeal to each country that had requested a specific analytics and strategy update from the previous meeting. In other words, the part where the spy started hurriedly speaking in foreign languages that no one else on the team could understand. 

A couple of seats to her right, Dr. Banner had placed his elbow on the table and was rubbing his head, as if he had a worse headache then her. His friend was about to screw up big time, all to be prideful. Admitting defeat was not his strong suit.

“Ambassadeurs de bienvenue, je voudrais commencer par expliquer comment l'équipe a amélioré ses techniques de combat individuelles depuis notre récente bataille en France.” Tony effortlessly said. 

Natasha’s eyes flew across to the man standing at the podium, narrowing skeptically. The rest of the team sent her a confused look of surprise, trying to gauge her reaction and see what their teammate had done. Stark continued, unaware of the stir he had caused amongst them. 

“Is he.. Is he really speaking French?” Clint whispered to her in disbelief. 

Alright, so the rich guy spoke French, she should have suspected that from day one, she supposed. It wasn’t exactly unusual for someone of his status to pursue mastering such an elective. Alright. 

As the businessman approached the end of his speech, Romanoff steeled herself for his inevitable fall in composure. Now it was time to address the Chinese president’s officials. 

“我知道復仇者獲得資金的地方有一些擔憂，請允許我解釋一下......” 

“How on Earth..” Bruce trailed off, obviously listening to the bits and pieces that he understood. He was amazingly proficient in Chinese, thanks to his studies abroad. But Tony didn’t even stop to second guess what he was saying. Natasha curled her hands into fists beneath the table cloth and listened. Not only was he communicating, but the content of what he was saying was correct. Exactly what Fury had advised her to say in their recent meeting. She hadn't even realized he was paying attention. Everyone zoned out when Fury was debriefing her, especially Tony. He'd sit in his swivel chair and tap away at his tablet without a care in the world. 

As the minutes ticked by, the team watched in disbelief as Tony carried the event with the composure and grace of any of his other PR sound offs, minus the inappropriate jokes and jibes. Well, except a few. Natasha gaped openly when he breezed through the Vietnamese portion, and clenched her jaw as he navigated the sharp rises and falls of her own language, Russian. So, he understood all those unexplained murmurs she'd make around the house... She tried to suppress a pang of envy as he conversed in confident Wakandan with the king himself. That was a language she had never bothered to study. Steve had caught her eye back when he was saying something off handedly in Irish, and it appeared that he was trying to validate that this was, indeed, happening. She could only shrug her shoulders and offer a sharp smile. 

Finally, it was time for direct questions for the entirety of the group. 

“De ce nu este ms Romanoff actorul dvs. astăzi?” Why wasn't she speaking for the group, someone asked in Romanian. Tony replied on her behalf, after sending her a small smile. He assured the audience that it was nothing more than a case of a weak voice. A murmur made its way around the room, making the spy want to glare at each and every occupant. 'Weak' should not be uttered in a sentence referring to her.

After a few questions for Steve about the extent of his military expertise and how he was incorporating such skills into the team’s tactics, and some pointless jabs aimed at Thor about how they could be sure he truly had Earth’s best intentions at heart, Tony tried to wrap things up. “One more question.” He announced in English, probably for the benefit of the group more than anything else. They were all getting antsy waiting around now. 

A well dressed man who had attended in person, stood up and asked the final question of the evening in Italian. “ Sembri abbastanza bravo in lingue, Mr. Stark. Qualche altro talento nascosto?” Natasha stared at the back of Stark’s styled brown hair, waiting for his answer. Any other hidden talents? It appeared that he had managed to charm even the world’s politicians with his quippy banter. A good natured chuckle came from the audience members who understood what was being asked, a few delayed as personal translators caught them up to speed. 

Tony grinned and replied with a faint air of bravado. “Immagino che dovrai solo aspettare e vedere. Ma grazie, sono sempre stato appassionato di italiano.” The man who had asked sat down with a laugh as Tony told him that he had always been fond of his language, and Natasha’s eyes widened a bit. Tony rubbed the back of his neck self consciously for a moment, as if feeling her eyes on him, and spun his cufflinks once again. 

Despite hearing him so briefly, the spy already knew that Tony sounded like a through and through native Italian speaker. He had sounded perfect in everything he had spoken, but it was somehow... different. Alarm bells sounded off in her head. She pushed aside her feverish symptoms and assessed the man in front of her. Anxiety levels: suddenly spiked without apparent cause. Behavior: fleetingly bashful. The billionaire dismissed the assembly and made his way to the exit, not waiting for the others. Natasha added that to her mental file. Avoidance tactic being utilized. Reason for suspicion? 

Clint tapped the back of her hand and made to stand up along with the others. Steve was focused on where Stark had disappeared into the empty foyer. 

“I’ll go catch up,” Bruce volunteered, rising to swiftly follow. 

“That went remarkably well!” Thor said heartily, clasping Steve’s shoulder. “I did not know the Man of Iron possessed such capabilities." 

“Neither did I.” Thor’s pleased look did not diminish, and the others tried to replicate it. But watching Tony leave without them was a bit worrying. The team hurried out. 

Bruce and Tony were speaking in hushed tones near the wall length windows. Natasha ducked her head as they approached the two scientists. “How’s your voice?” Tony asked, his face barely distinguishable in the low lighting. A wave of what felt oddly like shame passed over her. She simply shook her head, avoiding eye contact. “Oh,” he replied eloquently.

Natasha rubbed her hand down her arm. Guilt creeped up on her. She was pretty sure she could form a solid sentence or two by now, but what would she even say? All these languages, and what was she to say?

“You did amazing, Tony.” Steve said earnestly, his voice matching the quiet tones they had all taken to using for no particular reason. Tony seemed inexplicably somber, and it just didn’t make sense. Why wasn’t he bragging and snarking and saying ‘I told you so’? Natasha’s train of thought suddenly hitched as she realized something. Why would he be? How many situations had he really acted that way before? Except for when they were in front of a villain, or Fury, or some other political asshole who was trying to stir up trouble? When had she taken to assuming that Stark was just some shameless show off? 

Oh.  
Oh.

“Thanks,” Tony said. 

“Where did you learn all that?” Clint asked, spinning an arrowhead on his finger that he had tucked away in his shirt pocket. 

“I just picked it up gradually,” the philanthropist replied. He turned to gaze out over the skyline, hands tucked away in his pockets. He really did seem put out from all those hours of networking.

“ ‘Just picked it up’?” Bruce repeated. Tony shifted and huffed a bit. After a moment he seemingly decided to make the decision to expand on his vague explanation.

“When I was younger I started studying as many languages as possible to prepare for taking over the company. Whenever I sat into Howard’s meetings someone was always speaking in something we didn’t understand. I assumed it was an inconvenience for both parties involved. I decided to just be ready and make it easier for me in the future. Cut out the middleman, as they say.” 

“Then why doesn’t anyone know you can speak so many languages?” Clint asked, recalling how the audience seemed to be just as surprised as the rest of them. The archer leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, ready to listen.

“When I got older he explained that one of the first rules of business was to never accommodate. If the other guy has to do more, it means your valuable enough for them to go through the trouble to work with you. Weird philosophy. Obvious power move. But I used it. Never really spoke another language like that in front of a negotiator again.” He explained. “To be honest, I think he was just to prideful and wanted to be as difficult as possible with people.” Tony admitted. The corner of his mouth turned down in a sour frown. “I mean, really. It’s not like it was hard for us. We might as well.”

Natasha noted how Tony seemed to avoid referring to his immensely high intelligence in whatever way possible, simply alluding to it. That’s when her brain seemed to short circuit. He’s not even just saying it outright. He’s a genius, in fact, his whole family are geniuses. And he’s not even willing to articulate it out of politeness and - no- bashfulness?

Wow. 

“Really, thank you for handling this today. We appreciate it.” Steve persisted. 

“It’s no problem. I already do some of our PR, no reason I couldn’t step in.” He assured. 

‘Some’. Nat thought. No, he does basically all of it besides this one conference. All of their PR and all of SI’s. Constantly. He doesn't even mention it. And he did it well, incredibly well. They were virtually scandal-less and untouchable. Idolized by the world. 

Oh. 

She mustered up the courage to finally speak up. In a halting voice, she stated, “You speak Italian.” Everyone turned to look at her. 

Tony’s eyes found her’s and he tilted his head. “Um, yes. I thought we established that I have a rolodex of dialects here.”

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. Her voice was still sore and she did not want to speak this much unnecessarily. “No, I mean, you speak Italian. That’s your first language.” She stated confidently, ignoring the wavering quality of her voice. She fixed him with a look to further drive home her claim. It wasn’t a hunch, all of her spy training was telling her that it was an absolute truth that should be taken as fact. 

The engineer’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. He brushed back his hair and looked back at her, not saying a word. “Isn’t that right, Jarvis?” She said louder, peering at the smartwatch that was on Tony’s wrist. 

“Indeed, Ms. Romanoff.” The British A.I answered. Tony furtively clasped his hand over the watch and looked at it traitorously. 

“Wait, how do you speak Italian?” Steve interjected. He was properly shocked now, attentive and intrigued at this influx of information about one of their most secretive teammates. “Howard never spoke Italian.” 

Tony started untying his tie and stared at the floor as he did so. “My mom spoke it. A lot of our staff, too. Learned it first, technically. Lived in Italy for awhile while Howard was off on… expeditions…”

Steve’s eyes sought out the billionaire’s, who refused to reciprocate.  
“How long?” He asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Didn’t properly live here until I was about, eh, four?” The forced casualness of his voice made Steve visibly recoil. 

The group lapsed into a stunned quiet. “Tony-” Steve started, only to be cut off by Jarvis’ crisp accent. 

“Sir, your car is waiting downstairs.” Tony looked thankful for the interruptance. 

“Of course. Tell the driver we’re coming.”

“Certainly, Sir.” 

With a nod to the others, Tony took off towards the elevators, gently pulling Bruce along with him like an anchor. The team took up their pace. 

As the super powered group left the elevator and stepped out into the darkened garage, the Russian spy tugged the genius off to the side. 

"Grazie, la tua genialità ci salva sempre la giornata."

Thank you, your genius is always saving the day for us. 

Glancing between the Avenger’s walking ahead of them, and back to Natasha, Tony smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All of the foreign languages were translated via google and are likely to be flawed. I apologize profusely! 
> 
> Seeing all of your comments were incredibly motivating! I am very happy that the Tony praise in this story is something that many people wanted! Your comments about the plot and writing technique were very nice, it motivated me to try to increase the quality of this chapter for you. I believe someone asked if I was a new writer, and the answer is not exactly, if that makes sense. I've always written amateur stories and fanfics, but have never tried as hard as this on any of them. I hope to become better as I go along.  
> This chapter was important because I barely ever write from Nat's perspective. Her characterization is harder to pinpoint for me, and I tried to derive this from how she is canonically and my own headcannons. As well as what would serve the story best. I hope it balanced well!  
> Between updates I was planning some future stories, so let me know if your interesed in anything in particular!  
> Thank you~~


	4. Inexplicable Instrumentals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Tony are just trying to get someone off their mind. Thor learns that they aren't so different, and the Man of Iron truly is something amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please enjoy <3

4.

Thor didn’t like to dwell on his life before the Avengers. Did he? All the time. Constantly. But did he like it? He liked it about as much as that time Loki enchanted his voice to be two octaves too high whenever he’d speak to one of the staff in the palace. So, not at all. 

And there it was. Loki, again. Always back to thinking about Loki. 

Thor grunted as one of the torrents of water being shot at him hit their mark. He had been in the new training room for around four hours, trying to clear his head. The god had never had the opportunity to really train in the tower before, seeing as none of their equipment suited his strength. At least, until the Man of Iron designed this new room specifically for him. 

It had been puzzling to walk into the dimly lit chamber two weeks ago and have his friend insist he stand still. Thor had even been wondering if Tony had been enlisted by Loki (stupid, stupid) for some kind of scheme. But then Stark had pushed a button on the wall and great streams of water threatened to knock Thor straight off his feet. Several metal targets descended from seemingly nowhere in the high ceiling space, and Thor took up the task of avoiding the assaults while he tried to hit them all. 

“Thought you might like it!” Tony had called from outside the large viewing window. “There’s a fire option too if you ever want to spice things up!” 

Thor was now seriously considering trying out that fire option for the first time when the lady warrior of the tower walked into the viewing room. She knocked insistently on the window and gestured for him to come outside. With a frown, he obliged. Usually the only person who visited him here was the Man of Iron. 

“How can I be of service?” He asked upon swinging open the door for Natasha to enter. She merely grabbed his forearm and hauled him out of the training arena instead. 

“Have you seen Stark?” She crossed her arms, looking around as if the before mentioned man may be hiding in one of the corners. It took Thor’s whirling mind (previously so invested in trying to purge out any unwanted thoughts of his brother) a moment to catch the question. 

“No, I have not.”

“He’s gone then. Jarvis! You told me he hadn’t left!” The assassin directed the last part of her sentence upwards. Her voice carried an accusatory tone, as if she were exasperated from having her time wasted. 

“Sir did not leave the premises, Ms. Romanoff,” the British A.I responded. Thor wasn’t surprised but rather overwhelmed at the twists this conversation was bringing. Natasha was now ignoring him in favor of glaring at one of Jarvis’ cameras hanging dutifully in the corner. 

“Then where is he?” This was her millionth attempt at this question. She should probably just give up. 

The A.I seemed to think similarly, if the tilt to his voice was any indication. “As I’ve said before, that information is classified. Sir has ensured that the team always has access to his status on premises, but he is utilizing a protocol that protects his location.”

“Why would he want us to know he’s here, but not where? We’ve always been able to ask where everyone is.”

“Yes. Sir does not use this function often, but he is adamant that you know he is here if you need him in a time of crisis. He simply wants privacy at the moment. This is all my program has instructed me to say.”

“Bullshit!” Natasha huffed. She wasn’t used to not having access to these things. It had come to her attention when she casually asked Jarvis where Tony was so she could check on his progress with her new holsters. It hadn’t been a big deal, but when Jarvis informed her that a new protocol was being run so that no one could find Tony in the tower, she was immediately invested in finding him. It was kind of sweet knowing that Tony had thought to code Jarvis so they always knew if he was here or not for missions, but she became skeptical when she had scoured all the residential floors and had still not found him. 

Jarvis was usually pretty amicable, but this was a blunt reminder that he was still an intelligence that Stark had full control over, and any “slip ups” he had previously was all because Tony’s code allowed him to exercise that level of humanity. He had said to her once, “J isn’t quite a robot. He’s based off people. He’s been with me long enough to know my right from wrong.”  
“Isn’t that dangerous?” She had asked.  
“Of course. I still have control over him. But that doesn’t mean I want him on a leash all the time,” Tony had been perturbed at having to admit this. And, honestly? Nat was not enjoying obedient Jarvis in the least. 

It was at this time that Thor cleared his voice to subtly draw her attention. “Forgive me, but I’d like to be filled in on the situation.” Thor was slightly amused at the interactions he was witnessing, and worried all the same. The assassin had been so preoccupied that he was left trying to make sense of the scraps of information he was being thrown. 

“Sorry. Stark is somewhere here but no one can find him. I was just wondering if you had seen him.”

The god hummed inquisitively. “No, not since yesterday night. Do you have an urgent matter to discuss?” Thor began tossing his hammer lightly from one hand to another, subconsciously warming up for a mission. Loki was now the last thing on his mind. 

Nat sighed and shook her head. “No. If you see him send a word up? Steve is kind of losing it.”

“You told the captain?” Even Thor knew that was a bit much. 

 

“Regretting it. He has Barton crawling vents. Even ordered Bruce to hack Jarvis. I’ve never heard him say ‘I’m not really that kind of engineer’ so many times in one sitting.” 

Thor gave a hearty laugh despite the situation. “Tell him to use one of those doctorates he’s so fond of.”

Nat gave a lopsided smile and began heading towards the door. “Will do. Keep us updated.” 

As she left Thor felt a strange kind of foreboding. Things had been fine for the team since the huge PR meeting that Tony ran a few weeks ago, even if he had been a bit untalkative afterwards. Whatever conflict had arisen between Natasha and the man had presumably been sorted out, and the team was as close as ever. Why would Stark be closing up now? Especially in such an unprecedented way. 

Thor had a good relationship with him, in fact, he was rather fond of their time together. The witty banter and mischievous nature of the engineer reminded Thor a lot of….

Damn. 

Thor set off to look for his friend. He really needed a distraction now. 

He started from the penthouse and made his way down floor by floor, skipping his own for the time being. On the way he bumped into the captain. Steve took one look at him, asked “Anything?” And marched away when Thor shook his head, hollering for Bruce to at least give his hacking skills a shot. 

“I don’t feel comfortable participating in anything morally ambiguous right now!” The scientist replied in a sing-song from one of the common rooms. 

“For me?!” Steve nearly pleaded. 

Thor heard Bruce laugh. “Tony is rubbing off on you!” 

The god rolled his eyes and continued even further down into the tower. All the lower levels were office spaces of S.I that he tried to stay away from, but he went in anyway. A quick chat with a few receptionists let him know that the boss had not made a visit today, and trust them, they’d know. 

Thor had reached the end of the road. He entered the elevator for the last time, a little put out by his lack of success. “Take me to my floor, good friend?” 

“Of course,” Jarvis replied smoothly. The doors closed with a beep. 

Thor stood in the small space holding his ridiculously sized hammer. “Hey Jarvis?”

“Yes?”  
“You’d tell us if something were wrong, yes?”

“Sir’s safety is the first priority of my programming.” Thor looked down and rubbed his neck. It had been a long morning. 

“Alright. I will respect his decision not to be bothered.” 

The elevator opened with a soft dinging sound. Thor stepped out onto his residential floor. He usually didn’t come here during the day. In fact, he spent very little time in the customized living space. Stark had even given him the smallest floor because of it. He prefered to spend his time out and about with his colleagues, training or fighting the villain of the week. Coming in here when the sun was still up was a worrying reminder that one of his favorite companions in the tower was nowhere to be found. 

After wandering through his kitchenette and pint sized living room (compared to the other floors), Thor settled on taking a nap in his extravagant four poster bed. “Everyone will be home by the time I awake…” he assured himself. With that, he dozed off buried beneath a quilt Tony had imported especially for him. 

 

Groggy and blurry eyed from sleep, the god raised his head and searched for the time. It had been a couple hours since he had fallen asleep. Confused as to why he woke up, Thor sat up fully and took in his surroundings. 

There was a faint noise hanging somewhere in the air. It was swelling and receding, barely noticeable among the white noise. 

Is that… music? Thor thought. He didn’t remember leaving on the television…

But no. All of the humanely devices in his living quarters were pitch black and silent, patiently awaiting their time to be used. 

Thor followed the music with his eyes, scanning the area as if there would be a hint as to where they originated from. As the musical notes increased in intensity, Thor’s gaze fell on his closet door. He pressed his ear to the wall within. Yes, it was definitely louder back there. 

He was now emboldened by the mystery of it all and anxious to investigate. Thor took off around the corner of the hallway until he got to the wall adjacent to his closet. A lone painting of an acoustic guitar hung squarely in the center of the peach colored wall. He had never given it much thought, but now he questioned why the Man of Iron had included it in his rooms at all. It didn’t quite fit in with the abstract Midgardian nature scenes decorating the other spaces. 

The muffled sounds were much clearer standing at the hallways dead end. Thor pressed his hand to the paintings face, wanting to feel if there were any distinct vibrations, or if he somehow was confused. The water colored art was definitely jostling in place....

A great whirring sound erupted from the wall as the painting was pushed backward by Thor’s hand. The entire thing swung open on hinges he had never seen before, revealing another hallway lit by yellow lamps. 

“What…?” Thor breathed out. Music flooded into his apartment, wonderful chimes and chords from instruments that the alien couldn’t name. Tentatively venturing down the hallway, Thor turned into a room that stole the breath from his lungs. 

The circular room was more akin to a miniature concert hall, constructed of dark wooden panelling and high ceilings. Several of what Thor recognized as being guitars lined the walls. A plethora of other instruments were displayed in cases or hung up delicately on the walls, each one a work of art. Their exteriors glistened and shone, reflecting rich colors underneath the lights. 

And, to Thor’s ultimate surprise, the source of the current noise sat in the middle of the room on a low bench, fingers streaking across the keys of a black grand piano. 

It was Tony.

Dressed in a gray sweater and black slacks, Thor couldn’t help but stare. The ensemble was a bit more formal then what the engineer usually wore around the tower, but the fluffy wool socks on his feet evened it out. Tony’s hair was more disheveled than it normally was, too. It looked as though he had rolled out of bed… and gotten dressed for a piano concert?

Suddenly the piano keys stopped and the final note echoed almost hauntingly around the room. Thor looked up to see why it had ended. His friend was staring at him with bemusement. The corners of his mouth were downturned in a frown. 

“Thor? What are you…?” Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes. He got up and walked over to where Thor was standing open mouthed. Seemingly determined to ignore the strangeness of this situation, Tony took the Norse god by the shoulder and tried to turn him around. “Sorry to bother you, Point Break. I didn’t expect you to be back in your room so soon.” The engineer still had a hand on his shoulder, gently but insistently trying to lead him back outside. His frown grew deeper as Thor’s silence dragged on.

With a shake of his head, Thor spoke. “ I wasn’t aware this… space existed on my floor.” That explained how his living quarters seemed to be so much smaller than the other’s. Half of it was taken up by whatever this was. 

“Sorry.” Stark repeated. He offered no other words of explanation. 

Thor wasn’t satisfied. 

“Natasha was looking for you a couple hours ago. Everyone was.” 

Tony crossed his arms in a defensive stance. Well, it would’ve been a defensive stance if it wasn’t so lacking in intimidation. While the billionaire looked slightly annoyed and determined to see Thor out, he also couldn’t help but notice the red around his eyes. He more closely resembled a disgruntled puppy than Iron Man. 

“That so? Maybe I didn’t want to be found.”

“Jarvis said as much.” 

Tony grunted out a sound of acknowledgement. “Glad to know he’s doing his job.” 

“Aye. Despite the worry your absence brought about, it was considerate of you to let Jarvis tell us you were here. Why are you here, by the way? I was unaware that my floor had such a secret passage.” 

“It’s not secret!” Tony rushed to deny. His expression turned sheepish. “It’s private.” 

“And what is ‘it’ exactly?” A sigh of defeat signaled to Thor that he had finally worn down Tony’s resolve. He felt a bit guilty, although, the team had all agreed to be more open with each other. So perhaps he was just being a good teammate. 

The Man of Iron sat back down at the impeccable piano. His arms swung outward to gesture towards the entirety of the room. “ Welcome to the Maria Stark Concert Hall. Or, studio, more like.” 

“Maria?” Thor repeated inquisitively. The Stark name was familiar. Hell, up until a while ago it had labeled the very tower they stood in. But who was Maria?

“My mother.” Tony said quietly. His voice was merely a whisper. “She… she always loved music.” Thor watched as the other man cleared his throat and marched off towards the guitars adorning the walls. “See these? I made them. For her.” Tony gingerly picked up a pearl colored acoustic and offered it to Thor without hesitation. “This was one of her favorites.” 

Thor may not have known much about the situation he currently found himself in, but he was smart enough to be touched by Tony’s casual display of trust. Thor’s large hands, used to swinging hammers at attackers, gently cradled the instrument. “It’s beautiful.” The god couldn’t think of a compliment more sincere and accurate as that. It truly was, the strings and wood glimmering like strands of silver. 

“I made those too.” Tony continued, not acknowledging the awe in his friend’s voice. He pointed towards a vast array of human instruments. Flutes, other wind instruments, violins, and big violins? The god wasn’t quite sure about all the names.  
“Can you play them all?” 

“Yeah. Mom taught me.”

Tony spoke of his mother with a tone so filled with admiration that Thor couldn’t help but smile. “My mother also loved music. However, she never tried to pass her talent on to me. The arts were always more of Loki’s-”

Abruptly Thor’s voiced hitched. Oh great, now he was thinking about him again. 

The Man of Iron’s eyes had gone wide at the mention of Loki’s name, but he appeared otherwise unfazed. “It’s alright, you know. To talk about him. He’s your brother.” Thor broke eye contact. Inspecting the floor suddenly sounded like a wonderful activity. 

Unable to ignore the stare Tony had pointed at him, Thor finally caught his eye. “Yes. He is.” 

Stark gave a firm nod of agreement. This was the first time any of the team had referred to Loki directly. At least, as anything besides the enemy they once fought together. It was like a sheet had been torn away, revealing the ancient relic that was their familial relationship. 

“Say, could Loki do this?” Tony asked, picking up a piccolo and playing a light, playful tune. Thor laughed at his dramatic movements, head banging as if he were shredding an electric guitar riff. 

“I believe Asgard’s instruments are a bit different, though I have no doubt he could do something similar.” Thor managed to get out between his deep laughter. After a moment of reveling in the joyous atmosphere, Thor continued to reminiscence aloud. “Mother and brother didn’t only bond over music. There was another art as well. Magic.” Tony listened attentively, head cocked to the side. 

“Now, I definitely wasn’t talented in that. Loki got passed down that gift. I was merely the future king.”

“ ‘Merely’” Tony repeated with a snort, though his disbelief wasn’t mean spirited. 

Thor glanced at his companion with a sad smile. Oh, how the Man of Iron reminded him of his forlorn sibling. 

“I still remember the first time we truly realized his potential. Strangely enough it was actually because of music.” He surveyed the room with a keen eye. “Though, I don’t see the particular instrument he used. I suppose Midgardians don’t know of it.” 

Now Tony was really listening. “ Some sort of magical instrument?”

“Indeed. Crafted from the finest wood and enchanted by the strongest sorcerers in Asgard. Only they can play it. Anyone else will destroy the craftsmanship before a single sound can be made. At age 3 Loki managed to play quite a fine chord progression.” 

“Damn would I like to see that.” Tony said. “ It sounds amazing.” His interest was practically permeating the room. All signs of earlier annoyance were washed away. 

“ Man of Iron, I forget to ask you why-”

“Could you bring back one of those instruments next time you travel to Asgard? If it’s possible?” 

Thor blinked at the impromptu interruption. His earlier thought was derailed as he considered the proposition. “Actually, I happen to have one here now. It’s actually the same kind that I was just describing.” The small secret was difficult to admit. It felt like some kind of admission of guilt, like the Asgardian was secretly harboring a little more homesickness then he let on. 

“Really?” Tony enthused. Thor’s brother in arms did not seem to care about the implication of his confession. The engineer’s curiosity blocked out all other lanes of thought. “Can I see it?”

A wave of shame crashed upon Thor without warning. Now he remembered why he hadn’t told anyone of the relic he kept from his home planet. 

“I’m afraid it’s broken.” Thor ducked his head to avoid the look of disappointment he was sure Stark must be sporting. “One day I just wanted to hear the sounds of home again. I knew it wouldn’t work but I had hoped-” he breathed out a sigh, “I broke it. My hands may be worthy of Mjolnir, but not of a sorcerer's tool.” There was a beat of silence. 

Voice just as confident as before, Tony questioned, “May I see it anyway?” Thor shouldn’t have been taken aback by the request at this point. The Man of Iron was nothing if not determined. 

Thor shrugged and moved to stand. “Aye, come with me.” 

The duo made their way back to Thor’s living quarters. Tony’s earlier somber mood seemed to be completely gone, replaced by his excitement. Thor reached beneath his bed to where a small wooden box was safely hidden away from any prying eyes. Not that he thought he could hide anything from the spies lurking around the tower, but it was the thought that counted. 

What Thor pulled out of the box hardly resembled anything Tony had ever seen, much less a musical instrument. “We call it a ‘Sigyn’.” The god raised the rectangle object up to the light, letting Tony examine it from afar. 

“Gimme,” the engineer demanded, making grabby hands at the Sigyn. Thor relented easily. 

The frame was made of gorgeous white wood, dotted with obsidian swirls. It was about six by six inches. Between the frame were stretched four layers of criss crossing strings. The topmost layer was a glittering gold, the second was silver, the third being bronze, and the fourth was an inky black. Tony noticed that they got thinner as the layers went down. 

Steady hands flipped the Sigyn over. The engineer scoured the object for any noticeable damage. “Ah ha!” He pointed out a bundle of crumpled strings in the bottom layer. “I’m assuming this is your doing, Point Break?” 

“Aye.” Thor sighed. “Such a shame.”

“I have to admit”, Tony started, placing the Sigyn on the dresser. “I have no idea how this works or what it’s supposed to sound like.” 

Thor nodded in understanding, moving to put it back into the box. Stark grabbed his hand before he could. 

“However… color me intrigued.” His lips twitched up into a smile. “Maybe you could lend it to me? Let me look it over some more? It’s not everyday that I get my hands on a piece of an alien orchestra.”

“Man of Iron, I respect your skills and knowledge immensely. This technology is not like yours, though. This is a marriage of ancient Asgardian craftsmanship and magic.” Thor hoped that his words did not sound unkind to his teammate. “I wouldn’t expect any Midgardian to be able to fix it.”

Stark considered his words for a moment. “I don’t expect myself to fix it. Just let me mess around with it for awhile. I promise to be careful.” Stark crossed his heart and stared at Thor imploringly. “Please?” 

Thor huffed in deliberation. “I don’t see why not,” he conceded. 

“Nice! I swear I won’t break it anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it. Even on Asgard these Sigyns are rarely repaired, they usually cannot be salvaged after any damage done by a non-sorcerer. Have at it.” 

Tony grinned and didn’t waste a moment striding out of the room towards his lab. “Thanks MC Hammer!” 

Thor chuckled and shook his head. The Son of Stark was quite the character. 

 

 

It wasn’t until the next day at dinner that Thor realised none of the others were aware that he had found Tony. They were all gathered round their meals, eating in a stiff silence when the engineer burst into the kitchen. 

“Hey Goldilocks!” Stark exclaimed as a loud chorus of “Tony!” greeted him. 

“Where have you been?” Cap asked, worry beating out the tough ‘team leader’ voice he was trying to project. 

“We thought you had ditched us,” Clint hollered. 

“Steve kept trying to make me hack Jarvis!” Bruce tattled petulantly, pointing an accusatory finger across the room. 

Nat sat in her seat, a single eyebrow arched upward. 

Tony scanned his teammates in confusion before answering. “Uhm… the lab? You could’ve just knocked.”

“Bullshit! We checked the lab,” Clint griped.

“Several times,” Nat added.

“And the vents!”

Steve ran a hand down his face. “The whole team was looking for you.”

“Jeez I gave Jarvis that ‘On Premises’ Protocol so that this worrying wouldn’t happen.” Tony huffed. “And I was literally with Thor yesterday but go off I guess.” 

All eyes turned to the god Tony was standing next to, confusion and guilt etched across his face. “It seems I forgot to inform you all that I found him.”

Everyone groaned in unison. 

“You’re all a bunch of mother hens. Anyway, Thor,” the billionaire shot him a pointed look. “Are you interested in my surprise or what?”

“Of cour-”

“Why does he get a surprise?” Clint interjected. 

“Did Thor replace me as your favorite? I’m sort of offended.” Bruce teased.  
“What surprise?” Steve asked. 

“If you heathens could quiet down for a minute I would show you!” Tony set the Sigyn on the table with a joyous “Ta-Da!” He watched as the expressions of the room remained unimpressed. Well, except for Thor. 

Thor picked up the instrument delicately, inspecting it for several long moments. “You- you fixed it?” He asked, awestruck. “It looks brand new. Hey did you-?”

“That’s not all. Stay with me for a second, okay?” Tony raised his palms, as if to show he meant no harm. Then, he did something that made the god gape in amazement. His fingers moved down to the precious strings of the Asgardian instrument and began to move. 

When the engineer first flicked the golden string, Thor expected it to snap in half with an awful shriek much like it had done for him (and all non-sorcerers who touched such a relic). 

But instead an elegant melody was played. Tony plucked an intricate series of strings from within the four layers of the frame, grinning as Thor watched on in astonishment. The sound was heavenly, like the finest musicians of Asgard had decided to visit Thor once more. The piece wasn’t anything he had heard on his home planet, and it certainly wasn’t anything from Midgard either. 

“I don’t know how the hell this works, or how I’m using it, but pretty cool right?” 

“What is that?” Bruce asked. Everyone was gathered around, watching Tony fiddle with the foreign device. The look of Natasha’s face in particular was priceless. It was like the music made her forget everyone could see her stunned expression. 

“Asgardian jukebox,” Tony replied. He was strumming dutifully. 

“A Sigyn. A Sigyn that can’t be played by anyone except Asgard’s most skilled sorcerers,” Thor emphasized. The Norse god was trying to puzzle out how this was happening. “And a Sigyn that was broken no less than twelve hours ago.” 

“Oh I fixed it in half that time. Took me a hot minute to figure out and design a substance close enough to whatever that original string was made of- the tensile strength was off the charts- but yeah. I was using a laser guided apparatus to reattach everything when my hand slipped. And whaddaya know? I somehow didn’t snap the entire thing into limp spaghetti. So then I started trying to play it and-”

The team listened on as he explained his creative process. The highs and lows of his extensive tinkering.

“No Asgardian- no Midgardian- should be able to do what you did.” Thor breathed. His eyes choked up as he thought of Loki- his mother- working on their musical abilities within their palace. The sound of their playing filtering into his bed chambers and lulling him off to sleep as a boy. 

“I guess I’m just a prodigy,” Tony laughed. “And most certainly not your average Midgardian.” It was the sort of comment he made that the others knew not to take seriously. The kind that was tinged with self deprecation and embarrassment. 

Thor ignored it in favor of bestowing Tony with whatever compliment could communicate his admiration.“Your mother must have been an incredible teacher.”

Now that made Stark stop and spin on his heel. Steve and Nat were watching curiously as he struggled to find the right words to say. “Thank you,” he settled on. 

“Wait, wait, wait. So what is this again?” Clint asked. Bruce nudged him in annoyance as Tony launched into another explanation. Not once did he bring up Loki, or the hidden studio on Thor’s floor, or anything that they had talked about yesterday. Thor glanced down at the Sigyn sitting in the middle of the dinner table and decided that it was in good hands with the Man of Iron. 

 

 

That night, after reminiscing for a bit longer than usual about Asgard and his family that had splintered at the seams, Thor pulled out his phone. It was one of the smartphones Tony himself had designed, and had given to Thor for his personal use. 

He pulled up the colorful Google icon and began a search. ‘M-a-r-i-a-S-t-a-r-k’, he typed. 

Thor read the small box of quick facts that appeared with the thousands of other links. He looked at the woman’s smiling photo, and couldn’t help but see a resemblance to his friend. Beneath the picture were two dates. 

Thor’s breath seemed to hitch in his throat for a moment as he swiped down to look at the current day and month. Yesterday had been Maria Stark’s birthday. 

He thought of Tony, and his snarky remarks, quick wit, and the way he laughed and joked among the team earlier. He thought of how easily he had played that damn Sigyn. The god still had no clue how he did it. How he did so many things. 

That’s when Thor came to one definite conclusion; Tony Stark was certainly not any average Midgardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to keep this brief (even though I want to say Thank You and I love you all a million times)  
> I'm so incredibly sorry that I left this story without an update for so long. Life has been kicking my ass. However, you incredible readers have made me want to keep writing everyday. Endgame comes out in four days (can you believe it??) And this chapter has been a long time coming.  
> I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for the kind support. It really does mean the world to me

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that was difficult. Getting in the post avengers mindset was a nostalgia trip.  
> I hope I didn't disappoint you with the lack of /genius/ ness in here. I knew this Bruce & Tony interaction would be most difficult, since they both really are operating on similar wave lengths that I, realistically, could never understand.  
> I had to settle for hand wavy science and non specific projects, but did try to incorporate what I could to make it sound plausible in the least. (I imagine working with Vibranium on the periodic table would be very interesting).   
> I thought Bruce's overall thoughts were more important anyway. Writing his character is always fun.   
> As always I appreciate all of your support and feel free to comment!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [fluent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18589447) by [Scribulus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribulus/pseuds/Scribulus)




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